


time enough

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, Multi, background Lem/Emmanuel - Freeform, background fero/emmanuel (sort of), background lem/fero (sort of), rhizome era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:27:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28066227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Lem visits Devar. Devar's cat causes trouble.
Relationships: Lem King/Devar van der Dawes
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	time enough

**Author's Note:**

> for dora, for her birthday

Devar started his day slowly. That was the real luxury of the Rhizome, the feeling that time and life was going to continue without a disastrous sudden stop, and so you had time for the second cup of tea in the morning, if you felt like it.

Trinket, the tabby cat that had wandered into Devar’s study a few months ago and never left, hopped up on the empty seat across from Devar, blinking at him from across the small kitchen table.

Devar glanced up from the book he was reading. “I’ve already given you your breakfast.”

Trinket let out a small meow, jumping down from the chair and trotting to the front door, sitting neatly beside it. Devar glanced out the small kitchen window just in time to see Lem come into view.

Devar set his book down, shooting Trinket a look. Although Trinket seemed to enjoy the attention of anyone who visited the small library that Devar was trying to form, he only ever announced Lem’s arrival.

“How do you always know?” murmured Devar.

Trinket blinked up at him, his tail curling neatly around himself as he waited by the door. At Lem’s knock, Trinket moved towards Devar, rubbing his face along Devar’s leg, and then moving back to the door.

Devar huffed a breath, running a hand through his short hair to smooth it down before he opened the door. Lem smiled down at him, a few of the borrowed books tucked under one arm and a wrapped loaf of bread under the other.

“Good morning,” said Lem, “I hope I- this isn’t too early?”

“I keep telling you, anytime is fine,” said Devar, stepping back to let him in.

“Oh, well, you know,” said Lem, “Being married to a baker, you get used to earlier hours.”

“You were always up at weird hours,” said Devar, thinking of long-ago late-night study sessions, of Lem sneaking out in the night to mess around with some pattern he wanted to try.

“Well that was Fero’s fault,” said Lem. 

Trinket meowed, winding around Devar’s legs. Lem shot the cat a look and Devar quickly turned away to put the kettle on for Lem’s customary cup of tea, hiding a grin.

“I see he’s still here,” said Lem.

“Yes,” said Devar, “ _ Trinket _ is.”

Lem gave a skeptical hum, and this time Devar didn’t bother to hide a laugh. The first time Lem had met Trinket, the cat had pushed a glass of water onto his bag, and Lem had taken it as the kind of targeted annoyance that could only have come from Fero and had harboured the suspicion ever since. It was  _ possible _ , of course, but Devar hardly thought that Fero would eat so much cat food just for the purpose of keeping up the ruse, and if it truly bothered Lem it didn’t bother him  _ enough _ to stop coming to Devar’s place every few days with books to return and scraps of knowledge from the travellers that passed through Emmanuel’s bakery to pass along to Devar.

When Devar turned back around, Lem and Trinket were sitting opposite each other. Trinket’s tail flicked and he turned to lick his back. Lem’s eyes narrowed. Devar laughed again, drawing Lem’s attention.

“He’s really a cat the whole time?” asked Lem.

“Since birth, I’d think,” said Devar, setting Lem’s tea down in front of him.

Lem curled a hand around the mug, watching closely as Devar picked Trinket up off the chair so that he could sit down. Trinket made a little noise, rubbing his face on Devar’s legs again before heading out of the room. Lem hummed, watching him go.

Devar settled back in the chair. “So, what’s been goin’ on man?”

Lem’s focus switched to Devar, a smile coming across his face as he talked. It had been nice to fall into a routine with Lem like this, close to the study sessions of the Archive days but without the press of deadlines and the weight of rules on their backs. There was no need for either of them to rush off anywhere and Devar revelled in in, listening to Lem as he told Devar about Emmanuel (doing wonderfully, teaching some of the local children how to make scones), the garden he was attempting to grow (not doing as well as Ephrim’s, but looking quite nice), and how his project was doing.

“The trouble is,” said Lem, “I just can’t think of how to end the song.”

“I thought you already had the ending?”

“I know how I want it to end,” siad Lem, “but I just… the song feels almost too big to just  _ finish _ .” He paused. “Do you ever feel that way, writing about Hieron?”

“Probably less than you,” said Devar, “Since I’m writing about less of it.”

“I love your works though,” said Lem quickly, “I- I hope you don’t think-”

Devar waved a hand. “Nah, I know what you mean. We can’t all write thousand page ballads encompassing the entire history of the place.”

Lem let out a sigh. “I don’t think  _ anybody _ can, this ending is  _ impossible _ .” He drummed his fingers against his now-empty mug. “I can almost hear the music of it, but the words are… difficult.”

“You’ll get it,” said Devar.

Lem sighed again, his posture the mirror image of the one in Devar’s memory, slumped over some textbook. Devar reached forward, the body moving to match his memory, covering Lem’s hand with his.

“Hey,” said Devar, “You’ll get it. You’ve got time.”

Lem swallowed, looking down at their hands and back up at Devar, his face flushing a deep green. It suddenly occurred to Devar that they were much closer around his small kitchen table than they ever would have been across one of the desks at the Archives, their knees almost touching under the table. He let go of Lem’s hand, hurriedly standing and grabbing his mug, using the pretense of washing up to hide his flushed cheeks.

Devar let out a long breath, as quietly as possible, trying to squash the fluttery feeling in his stomach. That was an old holdover from their Archive days too.

Behind him Lem cleared his throat, the quiet sound of his empty mug squeezing on the table the only other noise.

“I, uh, Devar,” said Lem, his voice taking on a strained tone.

Devar froze. This was something that Lem had started to do lately, something far less relaxed than their idle chats over tea. He would tense, stumbling over his words, until he made his excuse to rush home, leaving Devar with a distinct feeling of absence. He tried not to think too much about what it was Lem was trying to say. There was no point, after all, in getting his hopes up about one thing, only to have Lem ask for some rare book or other again.

“Devar, do you ever- I mean, I think that we, or, that I- Emmanuel and I have talked about this, you see, and so it- what I mean is… is… “

Devar turned around slowly, his breath caught in his throat. Lem looked back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

Lem wet his lips. “I… Could I have another cup of tea?”

Devar huffed a breath. “Sure.”

Lem’s eyes flicked around the room as they waited for the kettle to boil. It was something of a relief when Trinket wandered back into the room, hopping up first on Devar’s seat and then the table, looking back at Lem. His tail twitched. Lem’s eyes narrowed again.

Devar grinned, moving to fill Lem’s mug. “He’s just a cat.”

“Fero’s very tricky,” said Lem, turning in his seat slightly to keep facing Devar as he moved back to the sink, “You shouldn’t underestimate him.”

“If this is a trick I don’t mind it,” said Devar, “As guests go, he’s pretty polite.”

“ _ Polite _ ?” said Lem, “He-”

There was a sudden sharp sound and Lem gave a yelp, jumping back out of his chair. Devar turned to see Trinket still on the table, cleaning his paw, the overturned mug of tea spilling onto the floor.

Lem bent, quickly pulling off his jacket to try to mop up the spill. “Oh, jeez, I-”

Devar grabbed a tea towel, bending to crouch beside Lem. “Here, let me-”

“I told you it was Fero-”

“He’s just a  _ cat _ -”

“-always doing this, he gets like this with Emmanuel too when we have an argument, as though he can trick me into saying-”

Lem’s cheeks flushed again. Devar sat back on his heels, the damp tea towel hanging from his hands. Lem flushed an even deeper green.

He opened his mouth and then shit it again, biting his lip. Devar waited, careful not to make any sudden moves. For all his talk about Fero being a cat, Lem could be just as easily startled away from conversations.

Devar swallowed. “I’m not trying to trick you into saying anything.”

“I almost wish you would,” said Lem, “It would be so much easier that way. And I told Emmanuel it would be- easier, you know? If he were here to explain to you, but he insisted that I- Although I suppose you could always ask him later-”

“Lem,” said Devar, “Ask him about what?”

Lem bit his lip and then ducked his head down, pressing his lips to Devar’s, fast and light. He pulled back just as fast, covering his mouth with his hand.

“I- you see, it’s- difficult,” said Lem.

He stood up and Devar followed. A thousand moments from the Archives flicked through Devar’s mind, all the tiny fragments of time where he’d wanted to lean in and kiss Lem as Lem had just kissed him before he’d dismissed the thought, all the times since then where it had felt like an impossible thing. He was sure that Lem must be able to hear his heart pounding.

“Devar, I… I mean, we’ve known one another a long time, and you still-” said Lem, “You must know that I… that I… I’m very fond of you.”

Warmth spread through Devar’s body, giving him the momentum to lift a hand and put it on Lem’s arm. Lem’s eyes went wide, his cheeks flushing a deep green once again.

“I, uh.” Devar swallowed. “I’m  _ very fond  _ of you too.”

A smile grew over Lem’s face, as sweet a sight as Devar had ever seen. He felt the pull again, the voice in the back of his mind that whispered to him to lean forward, and this time he followed it, their hands tangled between them as their lips met. Their tusks bumped into each other’s and Devar huffed a laugh, adjusting the angle. Lem took to prompt for what it was, opening under Devar, sighing into the kiss.

He pulled back sharply, his eyes wide. “Oh.  _ Oh _ , wait, I- Devar, I’ve thought of how to end it!”

“What?” said Devar.

“The song, the ballad,” said Lem, waving a hand, “I’ve just thought of the ending! Oh, where’s my paper-”

Devar huffed a laugh, the warmth of the morning too much in his chest for him to feel annoyed. Lem stepped back, reaching for his bag, his expression changing as he slipped on the tea. Devar reached out and grabbed him by the shoulders, keeping him upright. Lem’s hands went to Devar to hold himself steady, one on Devar’s shoulder and the other on his waist.

“Oh,” said Lem, looking down at Devar with wide eyes, “Oh, you know, actually, I’m sure I’ll remember it-”

He ducked down to kiss Devar again. Devar let himself be pulled closer, feeling them both relax into the kiss. They had time, after all, time to make up for with all the time that lay before them.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Trinket hopped up in the kitchen counter, squeezing through the open kitchen window and out into the front garden. He walked along the worn path that led from Devar's cottage library to the small house attached to the bakery, circling until he spotted an open window.

He headed to the small lounge in the corner where Fero was sitting, jumping up and looking up into Fero's eyes. After a moment, Fero laughed, scratching Trinket behind the ear.

"Great work buddy," said Fero.

"What?" said Emmanuel, leaning out of the kitchen.

"Nothing," said Fero, "Lem's just having a good day over there."

Emmanuel hummed, moving forward to drop a kiss on the top of Fero's head as he passed. "That's good to hear, matching good days for both of us."

Trinket gave a soft meow, settling in Fero's lap. Fero laughed again, stroking along the length of Trinket's back as the cat began to purr.

"Yeah," said Fero, smiling down at Trinket, "good for us." 

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most places


End file.
